Continued from Part VII:
The Lighthouse, Part VII
Continued from Part VI: The sensation I underwent in that moment, forbade me to question, or even to speak. After a few moments, however, I was master enough of myself to ask, “Was it after this that Robert—” I hesitated to finish the sentence, so close as I felt my own state to the old man’s.
As my exhaustion mounted, their voices became sweeter in tone to my ear—and I would fain have listened to them, had I not been bound to Candice’s fate as well as to my own. I looked ahead, not with fervent hope, but in the idleness of despair, and blinked against a spot which appeared just then on my vision. The more I blinked, however, the greater the spot grew, til it seemed a bright and shining star of blindness in the dark turmoil of sight. It looked like the light I had often seen on the water, stripped of its veil.
As it grew stronger, the voices cried out in dismay, harsh and repulsive, and I was shocked by terror from my idle dream.
“It’s the light!” Candice cried out, “The light is on in the lighthouse!”